


Operation 9:47

by cagedchaos (leen_go)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, and yixing being a shit, lol wtf, secretsanta, warning: fluff, yifan being dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 15:23:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13126467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leen_go/pseuds/cagedchaos
Summary: Tonight is the night. Definitely. Yes. Yifan is definitely going to tell him. Maybe.Hopefully?





	Operation 9:47

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theflyjar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theflyjar/gifts).



> AYYYYY. MERRY CHRISTMAS!
> 
> I'm really sorry Lo, I really wanted to write that trigger version with the murdering cus I feel like that'd be right up your alley for a gift but I also really wanted to get this to you on time and the other version would've taken too long! >.< Also, the rating you had for this prompt was yellow and I feel like murder would def not be yellow????? Aasdkjfhak, anyway, I hope this fits your prompt well enough instead! (Maybe I'll finish up the murder version another time for you heh)

Wu Yifan stands at the entrance to the fairground, nervously wringing his hands as he scans the crowds. The dress shirt he’s wearing underneath his jacket feels foreign against his skin; he’s used to cotton t-shirts but he feels like tonight is too important for one of his graphic tee’s. He checks the time again, wondering why Yixing was so late this year of all years. 

“How would you know if he’s running late?” He argues with himself out loud, “He’s always the one who has to wait for you. Maybe this is  _ normal  _ for him.” Yifan’s arrived at the town’s local Christmas market earlier than usual this year, having been unable to stay still at home, constantly pacing the length of his living room as he worries about his plan. He’s been coming to the fairground on Christmas Eve every year since he was a child, at first with his parents, and then continuing the tradition on his own when he moved out. If he’s being honest though, there isn’t really much that he’s actually interested in at the festival. Sure the numerous pop-up stalls always offer a deliciously seductive selection of holiday sweets and desserts, but at twenty-seven, he’s getting tired of the long lines and he’s definitely grown too big for all the carnival rides littered about the grounds. Yes, if he’s being honest, he’s only ever here for one reason, and one reason only. 

“Hey, giraffe. Quit spacing out.”

A smile instantly stretches across his face when he hears the familiar nickname in an even more familiar voice and he has to take a moment to straighten his features before he turns around. Yes, there’s only one reason why he comes to this ridiculously childish market year after year and his name is Zhang Yixing.

“Are you actually early this year?” Yixing mocks, punching Yifan in the shoulder playfully as he skips towards the festival entrance. The taller almost forgets all about his brilliant plan as he stands frozen on the spot, opting instead to simply stare after Yixing until the latter finally notices that Yifan hasn’t joined him. He jogs the short distance back to Yifan to grab the taller by the wrist and pull him alongside as he makes his way back towards the market. “Geez, if you’re just going to become a frozen lamp post from waiting for so long, I’d rather you just be late as usual. How long were you out here waiting, anyway?”

Yifan blinks a couple times before he finds proper use of his legs again and settles into a comfortable pace next to Yixing. He pulls his hand back to himself to check his phone for the hundredth time, realising in alarm that it’s actually been over an hour since he first stepped off the bus onto the sidewalk in front of the fairground. “Uhm, like five minutes?” he lies, ineffectively. 

“Really?” Yixing retorts in mock-disbelief, reaching for Yifan’s arm a second time and bringing the taller’s hand up to investigate, threading his fingers between Yifan’s with a chuckle, “Funny, cus your frozen fingers tell a different story.”

Yifan feels his face glow a bright red and he pulls his hand back to himself, immediately shoving it into his jacket pocket (Why was Yixing being so touchy all of a sudden?!). He scowls and Yixing laughs loudly at his embarrassment. “Let’s just get in line for the carousel,” Yifan grumbles, taking a quick left towards the ride, a yearly tradition since they first met. 

“Hey, wait!” Yixing calls, grabbing Yifan’s arm again (that’s thrice now, Yifan thinks to himself with his chest pounding in his ears). “I want to check out all the goodies they have for sale this year.”

Yifan shrugs Yixing’s hand off, hoping that the younger can’t feel how fast his pulse is racing through his jacket. “It’s the same every year, Yixing. Chocolates, both solid and liquid, gingerbread, stuff made of peppermint,” Yifan lists in a bored tone.

“Why are you in such a bad mood tonight?” Yixing pouts, crossing his arms grumpily.

“I’m not,” Yifan snaps, so quickly and crisply that it makes Yixing jump in alarm, before a dejected expression takes over his features. Yifan sighs with defeat; surely a quick walkaround the market won’t push back his schedule  _ that  _ much. “Okay, fine,” he resigns, “Where to first?”

Yixing’s face lights up almost as brightly as the Christmas lights around them and Yifan suddenly forgets to breathe again, just like the first time he’d met the boy two decades ago, underneath the twinkling lights of the carousel. He was only seven years old then, and having gotten separated from his parents, he stood in the middle of the grounds in front of the giant tree, the snot from his runny nose freezing against his skin. He was still hiccuping when Yixing introduced himself and it wasn’t until Yixing suggested getting an ice cream to share with the remainder of his allowance that Yifan finally stopped crying. Yifan laughs at the memory still; why did he want  _ ice cream _ when it was already ten-below and snowing?

Yifan lets himself be dragged to the nearest station where they stand in a line for ten minutes only so he can almost gag when he finds out what Yixing is paying for. “That’s disgusting, Zhang Yixing,” Yifan says with disgust as the smaller exchanges a dollar bill for a snack wrapped in a paper bag. 

“Uh, no, you’re crazy, Wu Yifan. Chocolate? Yum. Bacon? Even yummier. Bacon  _ dipped  _ in chocolate? How could it _ not _ be delicious?!” Yixing argues in defense of his latest decision, gleefully pulling out of  theline and reaching into the bag for his reward. He ignores the disdainful look from Yifan and takes a large bit, chewing slowly a couple times before he grins and holds out the remaining portion in front of Yifan who dodges out of reach. 

“Uhm, yeah, no,” Yifan declines with a frown, pushing Yixing’s hand away. “You can finish that on your own.”

“Oh come on, Scrooge, don’t be such a spoilsport,” Yixing berates, still waving the snack in the taller’s face as the latter desperately tries to get away. 

“Maybe if you weren’t so into weird snacks, I wouldn’t have to be,” Yifan defends, finally managing to still Yixing’s arm against his own. 

Yixing pouts again, reluctantly pulling his hand to himself and tossing the last bit of bacon into his mouth with a happy hum. “Your loss is my gain, then!”

Yifan scowled, “Whatever. What’s next then?” he asks, spinning around and looking up past all the temporary buildings to the carousel again, rotating slowly with its lights blinking in and out lazily. He pulls his phone out to check the time again, a small sense of worry flooding into him as he wonders if they’ll make it to the top of the ride before it shuts for the last time this year.

“Whatchu staring at?” Yixing asks, coming up beside Yifan and hooking his arm through the taller’s. 

Yifan looks down sharply at the touch, studying how Yixing’s arm wraps tightly around his own and reminding himself to breathe. “Uhm, nothing?” he deflects, voice higher than he’d like. He catches Yixing staring up at him curiously, as though waiting to see what Yifan is going to do next. As if daring Yifan to brush him off again for the fourth time in less than twenty minutes. Yifan clears his throat (probably too loudly, he realises after the fact) and directs his attention ahead, “So, uhm. Where to next?” he asks, forgetting that he’s already done so but hoping that it’s enough to drive Yixing’s attention from how tense Yifan’s muscles are where the younger has grabbed him. 

Yixing doesn’t miss a beat, pointing at the next stall and heading towards it, tightening his hold around Yifan’s arm ever so slightly and completely oblivious as to how it takes nearly all of Yifan’s concentration to put one foot in front of the other (the rest of it is being harnessed to keep himself from running away altogether). 

“I hope it’s mulled wine, it’s getting a little chilly out,” Yixing pipes up.

Yifan can’t help snickering as he watches Yixing stand up onto his toes to peer around the long line in front of them. “You want a boost?” he jokes, earning himself a disdainful glare that make him laugh even louder. “I can’t help it if you’re short!”

“I’m  _ not _ short. I’ll have you know that I’m actually taller than the average height.  _ You’re _ just freakishly large.”

Yifan rolls his eyes, “It  _ is  _ mulled wine, alright? And how long is this going to take?” he grumbles as he checks the time again, crossing and uncrossing his arms impatiently as they wait in line. 

“Why are you in such a rush? You got somewhere to be? Someone significant to meet on this fine Christmas Eve?” Yixing teases.

Yifan scowls, glaring down next to him, wondering how this tiny man can so easily make jokes about him  _ meeting _ someone when the only one he would ever want to meet is standing right in front of him. “No,” he snaps, “I just don’t see the point of waiting in line for something I can just make in the comfort of my own home is all.”

Yixing’s eyes widen at Yifan’s sudden outburst and the taller immediately regrets his tone. He’s just anxious; he had a plan for tonight and all this aimless wandering around is throwing it off. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout,” he apologizes, “I just,” he starts to explain, hesitating. 

Yixing watches him, waiting for an answer that Yifan can’t bring himself to give right now (this isn’t the right moment!). The duo stands in silence for almost a whole minute before Yixing sighs. “Whatever,” he grumbles, turning his attention forwards and deliberately ignoring YIfan. 

The rest of the wait in line is awkwardly quiet and Yifan finds himself clearing his throat more than once, trying to make small talk with what might as well be a brick wall. When it’s Yixing’s turn, he pays for his paper cup beverage and leaves the line without waiting for Yifan, who decides at the last second to get a drink for himself just for something to do. He has to push past several people before he finally catches up to Yixing, now standing in the middle of the market, staring up at the giant Christmas tree without blinking. 

Yixing sighs when Yifan steps up next to him. With his hands wrapped tightly around his cup, he turns to stare hard at Yifan, features expressionless as he watches Yifan struggle to find something appropriate to say. It’s yet another long moment of silence and Yifan shifts uncomfortably on the spot as he waits for Yixing to say something,  _ anything _ . After what seems like a lifetime, Yixing lets out a long sigh, shoulders slumping, “Let’s just ride the carousel and go home, okay?” he says, his exasperated voice muffled behind his cup as he takes a long sip. 

Yifan sighs to himself as he watches Yixing walk away again. It’s already 9:40 PM now and while the line to take the carousel around is shorter now than it was half an hour ago, it’ll still be past 9:47 PM before they reach the summit. With a sigh of defeat, Yifan knocks back his now luke-warm wine and tosses the cup in a nearby bin. “Wait!” he calls, recognizing the silhouette of Yixing hurrying to get in line for the popular ride. He picks his pace up to a jog long enough to grab Yixing’s arm to stop him, pulling him aside and out of the way of the milling people around them. “Please just give me five minutes?” Yifan says, taking hold of Yixing’s hand tightly. 

Yixing scowls with disdain and squirms out of Yifan’s hold, moving deftly away. He crosses his arms and waits with a frown. “Well?”

Yifan checks the time again, sighing heavily, “Look, everything is all messed up anyway, so screw it.”

“Uhm, excuse me?” Yixing interrupted with a raised eyebrow, starting to walk away again.

“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant. Lemme start over,” Yifan says, taking a deep breath to calm down when Yixing reluctantly turns to face him expectantly again. “Do you remember the first night we met?”

Yixing rolls his eyes, “Obviously. Isn’t that why we still meet here at this silly festival every year?”

“Yes, and do you remember what happened?”

“Yeah, you were crying like a little baby ‘cus you lost your parents,” Yixing snorted. “Had to buy you an ice cream to shut you up. Which, by the way,  _ you didn’t even finish.  _ And you realise you let a kid  _ younger _ than you take care of your snotty face, right? Isn’t is supposed to be the other way around?”

Yifan scowls but presses on, ignoring the urge to retort with a witty comment, “So you remember why we always ride the carousel then?”

Yixing rolls his eyes, “These stupid questions better be leading up to something.”

“Do you know what happens at 9:47 tonight then?”

Yixing raised an eyebrow skeptically, “Uhm, you set the record for making this the weirdest Christmas eve ever?”

Yifan narrows his eyes at Yixing, unamused by his relentless sarcastic remarks as he’s basically  _ bearing his soul.  _ He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes in a failed attempt to calm himself down, “It marks twenty years from the moment I fell in love with you,” he says flatly, fingers folding into nervous fists at his side as he swallows painfully in anticipation. “We were just reaching the front of the line for the carousel that first night we met, you know, cus you thought we could find my parents from the top. And there were so many blinking lights, and just, everything was just so beautiful in that moment,  _ you _ were so beautiful. I didn’t care if I found my parents in that moment, if i could just stand next to you in that line forever.” Yifan cleared his throat at the end of his monologue, realising that he’d been waving his arms wildly as he spoke. He shoved each under the opposite armpit and tapped his foot anxiously instead as he forced his mouth shut and waited painfully for a response,  _ any response _ besides the blank look currently on Yixing’s face.  

Yixing blinks a couple times before he looks down and pulls his phone out of his pocket, “Uhm, I, uh, I don’t,” he starts slowly, with nothing to follow up.

Yifan bites down on his bottom lip until he can taste blood, hating how that actually hurt less than this stabbing pain in his heart right now, “No, you’re right, I just, uhm, I just needed to get that off my chest? I completely understand if you can’t-”

Yixing cuts him off with a single raised finger, not even looking up as he continued to stare down at his phone for another painfully long moment before he looked up at Yifan, eyes twinkling, “You said 9:47, right?” he asked.

“Uhm, yes?” Yifan answers dumbly. “That’s not really the poin-” He’s cut off midword when Yixing gets up on his tiptoes and presses his lips against Yifan’s briefly before pulling away. 

“9:47PM. Now it’s the time of our first kiss too!” Yixing announces proudly with a ridiculous grin. 

“What?” is all Yifan can manage as he stares down at Yixing with wide eyes and mouth agape. 

“You didn’t think I was actually mad at you, did you?” Yixing continued, “It was just too good an opportunity to pass up. I mean, you were  _ so obvious _ all night, you know that, right? Early? You? Instant red flag. On top of that, you showed up in a dress shirt, you  _ hate _ dress shirts. And constantly wanting to go to to the carousel? What were you planning with  _ that _ by the way? Also, next time, maybe try not checking the time so much?”

Yifan’s mouth opens and closes several times as he processes Yixing’s words, realising slowing with a slow groan that Yixing has been making a mockery of his obsessively thought-out plan to confess  _ on purpose.  _ He drops his head into his hands and presses his eyes closed, wishing heartily that this is all just a dream. “Fuck you, Zhang Yixing,” he grumbles when he realises that no, this most certainly was not just a dream. Yixing’s reply is to laugh raucously, causing the heads of the nearest passers-by to turn in alarm, which in turn, forces Yifan to draw his scarf up around his face in an effort to hide from the strange (and some very judgemental) looks. “I hope you know you’re a fucking asshole.” 

Yixing snorts, “Yeah, well, you’re the one in love with me, so what does that make you?” he asks.

Yifan narrows his eyes at Yixing, suddenly finding it hard to remember what it was that made him think Yixing was the best thing in his life. “It makes me ‘leaving’,” he said, dramatically pushing past Yixing to leave.

“Oh, come on, giraffe, where’s your sense of humour?” Yixing asks, almost having to break out into a jog to keep up with Yifan. “Besides, are you really going to just bail on our first official date?”

Yifan stops abruptly, apologizing when someone curses behind him, almost having crashed into his back. “What did you say?” he turns to ask Yixing. 

“That  _ was _ your goal tonight, wasn’t it?” Yixing asks, looking down so that he can properly thread his fingers between Yifan’s. “You had some ridiculously romantic gesture planned out but I went and ruined it, right?”

Yifan scowls, annoyed that his plan was so easily seen through. “No,” he says resolutely, though he can start to feel his cheeks start to glow again. 

“So you’re telling me you  _ weren’t _ planning on confessing your undying love for me at the top of the carousel? And you definitely weren’t going to bribe the operator to stop it at the top for you too, right?”

Yifan frowns and does his best to glare at Yixing wholeheartedly, only to sigh in defeat when the smaller suddenly sneezes into his chest. He unwraps the scarf from his neck and throws it around Yixing’s instead, “You know I hate you, right?”

“Yes,” Yixing answers, clearly amused even as he rubs his red nose with his sleeve, “And I love you too.”


End file.
